This Hollowed Ground

We turn the tide. We hide the clock.
We cradle the moon is case it stops.
We stroke the gentle hand that stretches down to feed us on this Hollowed Ground.

We ride the lamb. We break the cross.
No hollow symbol fills our loss, but at least we have each other
And we need no-one to lead us from this Hollowed Ground.

We shall push and we shall pull and we shall rise above it all.